


Roger's Cafe

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cafe AU, Fluff, M/M, i think this covers it!, steve isnt nearly as cool as tony thinks he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4050466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony walked in, and briefly considered walking out again. The source of the voice wasn’t just a hot blond worker, it was a six-foot, all-american, beefcake of a hot blond worker, who was staring right at Tony. Tony in all of his ratty, funky-smelling, unshaven, and sleep deprived glory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This was it. This was the final straw. He was going to murder Obadiah Stane if it’s the last thing he did. Tony had worked himself to _death_ in the few short years he had been C.E.O of ol’ daddy’s company, and the first vacation he’s taken yet was turning out to be crap.

“No worries, I already have a beautiful apartment ready for you,” Stane had said. “I got new furniture moved there and everything!”

What he meant to say was, “I scrounged out a dirty, grimy apartment from the depths of Brooklyn’s slums and had a FedEx dude dump boxes of unassembled furniture in the lobby. Get back to California as soon as you can and make more money.”

His private jet usage had been restricted since the incident with the sloths, so he had to take a commercial airplane and four taxis, to get to the the crumbling broken down building that was to be his get away apartment for the month. Graffiti covered every wall, broken windows were covered haphazardly with duct tape, and paint peeled off the walls like it too was fleeing from the building. The lobby carpet was worn to the nub and was suspiciously squishy at places, not to mention the stench of stale milk.  
There wasn’t a soul in sight, not even behind the counter, his boxes (labeled “TOMY STAR”) were piled on top of each other in the far corner. 

And he sighed. Sighed so deep he nearly ran out of air, as exhaustion seeped into his bones anger seeped out. All he wanted was a break. He had been through hell these last few years, with M.I.T, his parent’s car crash, alcohol, and now Stark Industries, each biting off a chunk of his sanity. 

He ran a hand down his face with another sigh and dropped his luggage in front of the box pile. Tomorrow he was going to book a hotel in NYC, some big fancy building with a bar and jacuzzi. But currently, he was too tired to care.

Coffee. He needed coffee like he needed air in his lungs. Or he’d settle for vodka instead. Or both. Right now he needed to pass out, but first he had to unbox his mattress (who the _hell_ boxes a _mattress_ in the first place) and no way was he doing that before drowning himself in some sort of beverage. 

Tony was fairly certain there was a cafe or something across the street from his so he planned to sit there for a while until he got his life together, not really caring if anyone stole his luggage or even some of the boxes. Hell someone could mug him and at most he’d offer a cheesy one liner. He slumped out of the lobby and practically absorbed the fresh air while eyeing the small cafe. Cursive script on it’s oval sign simply read “Roger’s Cafe", a brown canopy hanging below it. 

He crossed over to it and was nearly plowed down by a group of laughing, whooping college students as he opened the door.  
“Traitors!” called an equally amused voice from within the cafe. Tony walked in, and briefly considered walking out again. The source of the voice wasn’t just a hot blond worker, it was a six-foot, all-american, beefcake of a hot blond worker, who was staring right at Tony. Tony in all of his ratty, funky-smelling, unshaven, and sleep deprived glory. 

He groaned internally, _'Why can’t the hot ones ever catch me after photo op or something?'_

Blondie didn't seem to mind that a literal trash can just walked into his store, bafflingly he seemed a little embarrassed himself.  
“Oh shoot, I’m really sorry about my friends. They’re uh… I’m sorry I really don’t have an excuse for that. I’m sorry.” He gave a tentative smile, unaware that Tony was counting his blessings. From what he could tell, Hot Guy wasn't disgusted by him (the fact that, with all the news coverage he’s been getting, the whole goddamn world and a few little green men knew he was a billionaire might have helped). If he played his cards right, his night could be very fun. Though, it’d have to happen at Muscle Mountain’s place. 

Exhaustion forgotten, he sauntered over to the counter, taking note of how the shining beige walls and hardwood floors contradicted the mucky outside of the neighborhood. “Don’t worry about it, my friends are worse. Ever had a one night stand walk out on you because your friend burst in with two assault rifles, a handgun, and a grenade?”

He was met with a laugh so warm he felt himself blush. Oh what he wouldn't do to hear that one more time. 

“No I’m afraid not. But, I did have a friend accidentally toss a bowling ball at an ex’s dick.”

It was Tony’s turn to laugh now. Plus, he had half a mind to sing hallelujah after he heard the words ‘ex’s dick’. The chance that Mr Sexy was attracted to dicks made bedding him a lot easier. 

“So what can I get you?”

“Hm? Damn. Sorry, I forgot I was supposed to be checking out the menu, not you. But both are looking pretty delicious.”

Tall Blond and Handsome raised his eyebrows. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Depends. Is it working?”

“Oh it might, but right now you’re holding up my line.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to finish this later, right now I’ll have a large pineapple smoothie, and your name.” Tony winked, while Cutie rolled his eyes with an amused smile.

“That’ll be three forty-six, and only if I get yours.”

Tony blanked for a second, the dude had no idea who Tony was. He was depending on his fame to impress Hottie and he had no idea who Tony was. Hottie was letting himself be wooed by a trash can. Before Tony could muse over this thought for long, some dude behind him cleared his throat. Loudly.

“Yeah of course, you’ll need something to scream later. It’s Tony.”

“Well Tony, I’m Steve, here’s your receipt, and your order number the only thing I’m screaming tonight. ”

“We’ll see about that.” Tony took the receipt with a little more contact that necessary. This month might not turn out to be such a bummer after all if he had Steve to keep him company.

It was only when he got back to the table and his blood rushed back into his brain that several things hit him. 

One. He was still wearing the worn out hole-ridden T-shirt and jeans he had put on two days earlier.

Two. Steve was utterly completely out of his league.

Three. He kinda wanted to ask Steve out. A one night stand seemed great, but it being preceded with a few hours of getting to know Steve seemed even better. 

Four. He probably overstepped his boundaries and took Steve’s mandatory workplace politeness as Steve returning his gestures.

Five. He just sacrificed his coffee for the sake of an innuendo. 

He groaned and rested his head on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh okay I'm still a bit iffy about this but I've been on here long enough, so why not post a fic. Might delete this, might update it, still not sure yet.  
> UPDATE: Omg thank you guys so much for your comments, I'm definitely going to update it within the week!


	2. Chapter 2

He lost track of how long he sat there, wallowing in self-pity and humiliation like some soap opera character. He even tried to lift his head to gaze out of a window all dramatic and deep like, but the brightly lit cafe assaulted his eyes and forced his head back down.  
The cafe was unbelievably cozy, and after thirty eight hours without sleep it seemed like everything was lulling him. The soft and tempting smells of pastry and coffee, the warm comforting air of the cafe, even the gentle hum of conversation in the background felt soothing. 

He was just on the tip of consciousness when he heard a voice deep enough to go straight to his nethers call out “46! Large pineapple smoothie.” 

He yawned and he forced himself out of his table. Steve looked (justifiably) concerned when Tony reached the desk. He hadn’t had the chance to look in a mirror yet, but he realized he probably looked worse than previously imagined. Not only was he ratty, funky-smelling, and unshaven, he must have eye bags, greasy hair, pit stains, and red-eyes. The very picture of attraction. 

Steve’s eyebrows knit in concern. “I didn’t wake you did I?”

“No, it’s fine. Ugh, I just came back from the airport so I’m tired as hell,” Tony leaned against the counter and sipped at his drink. He thought his next words through  
thoroughly, an event so rare that it could be mistaken for a sign of the apocalypse. 

“Hey Tony I was wondering if-”

“Wait yeah that’s great, one second I have to tell you something,” he straightened himself and took a deep breath, apologies never did come easily to him. “Look, I haven’t slept in like a day or two so I’m really sorry for all the stupid things I said at the counter. I made you uncomfortable and I overstepped my boundaries. Honestly, I was being a douche and, sorry”

Steve bent over and rested his elbows on the counter, nodding thoughtfully. But there was a hollow sense to the gesture. “Of course, of course, and I would accept this apology if…”

“What? C’mon Steve don’t tell me you want to hear me beg, I never pinned you as the kinky ty- I’m doing it again aren’t I?”

Leaning over as Steve was, a good few inches was taken off his height, bringing them eye to eye. Steve moved forward, agonizingly slowly, until Tony could count each individual shade of blue in his eyes. He wasn’t going to, but he could. 

“If a word of it was true.”

Well that broke the mood. Tony raised an eyebrow, “What, was I not sincere enough for you?” 

His eyes widened in surprise and a light blush made its way up the collar of his shirt. “Crap, no, I meant you didn’t make me uncomfortable. I guess it’s my turn to say sorry for coming off uninterested. It’s just, we have a rule that employees can’t flirt with customers and, you know how it is, if the owner doesn't listen to the rules no one does. Sam would never let me hear the end of it. Well, there’s no one on duty except for me, but still. I’m closing up in a minute because my employees, and friend, ditched me to go watch a movie, so I’m not a worker for much longer, so-”

“Steve, you’re rambling.” Tony meant to sound chiding but he had the biggest, goofiest grin on his face, so at best he sounded amused. At worst, he talked with a _giggle_. He couldn't help it, he liked hot people. But hot people who were simultaneously giant dorks could bend him over a table any day. 

Steve looked down, a small timid smile decorating his blushing face. “Sorry, nervous habit.”

“No, it’s fine. Damn adorable, actually. But, quick, question, you own this place?”

He nodded, “It was my grandma’s, then my mom’s, then mine. She opened it during the Great Depression, so there’d be a hot meal for anyone who was hungry and willing to wash a few dishes or mop the floor. The same policy stands, sorry for the lack of a sign. Everyone in this area knows us so I didn’t think it was necessary.” Pride colored Steve's words, it was evident how much he loved his family. It was only the last two sentences that the sheepish tone returned to his voice. 

“That’s amazing.” Steve couldn’t help but preen at the awed tone Tony had. Tony, who couldn’t help but reflect bitterly on his family line, had come from a line of weapons makers. It’s only when he took hold of the company that their multi-billion dollar company actually began to strive towards peace. Though, a minor kidnapping incident he had may have had something to do with his decision.

Hopes renewed, he stuck on his most suggestive smirk, “So Steve, how about me and you have some fun tonight? We cou-”

“No.”

“But you haven’t even heard my proposal yet-”

“We’re not doing anything tonight because you need rest. You said yourself you haven’t slept in a while.”

“What are you, my mother? Is this my cue to go, ‘but mom!’” Tony whined the last words like a five year old begging for another cookie.

“And this is my cue to go ‘no buts’, I’ll make you a coffee as long as you promise to meet me here at, three?”

“Well maybe I don’t want coffee.”

“You said nothing but the word coffee for ten seconds straight while you laid your head down on that table. Now, three?” Steve couldn’t repress his laughter as he spoke, a sound that Tony couldn't help but chuckle along to. 

“I hope you’re this bossy in bed. I’ll take the coffee, as long as you promise to help me unbox my stuff.”

“Deal. How would you like it?”

“Large with a diabetes-inducing quantity of sugar in there.”

It wasn’t until Steve walked away that Tony realized how close together their positions were. Their noses must have bumped half a dozen times in that conversation without him noticing. Of course bumping noses isn’t cute at all, it's awkward. And of course it wasn’t the thought of little eskimo kisses that was making Tony blush, (Jesus christ,  
what was he? A middle schooler?) it was the warm room. Of course. 

He tossed the lukewarm smoothie and went back to the counter, Steve re-emerged from the kitchen moments later. He had coffee, but his apronless chest demanded more  
attention.

His shirt was so tight, Tony felt indecent just looking at it. Though, he wasn’t complaining.

“Where’s your place?”

“Just across the street.” Tony snatched the coffee from Steve and chugged down most of it. The burning liquid would numb his tongue for a week, but it was worth it. Steve told him to wait as he asked the customers to clear out. The little ‘Open’ sign had been flipped to ‘Closed’ for a while now, so most everyone had already left. 

“So how many boxes are there?” Steve asked casually.

“I don’t know, a dozen? You don’t actually have to help me unpack, I was kidding.”

Steve waved his hand dismissively and said with an amused smile, “It’s fine, the whole reason I spend so much time in the gym is so I can help out a pip in distress like you.” 

“ _‘Pip in distr-’_ God damn, you sound like my grandpa. I hope you know that if you start talking like that in bed I’m going to start seeing his wrinkly old body and I will walk out on you, Rogers.”

“Aw shucks, egg. Now don’t crust my kick. In fact, if you weren’t a wet smack you’d mitt me, kid. Now before you snap your cap, crumb, you should know you’ve got me all khaki whacky-”

Tony kissed Steve. Which was a little difficult seeing as Steve was much taller than him, but he managed to shut him up. It was meant to be a simple peck on the lips, honest. Something that would Steve looking flustered and him looking smug (accompanied by some sort of one liner). But it was harder to pull away than he thought. After a moment of shock, Steve had responded tenderly. His mouth was soft against Tony’s, moving slowly with no rush. He had this way of talking to you that made you feel like you were the only one in the room, and his kisses made you the center of the universe. 

Steve wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, bringing him close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him. Coffe discarded, Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, bringing his head down a little lower so Tony wouldn’t have to strain as much to reach him. Tony was tingling and happy and warm and, _god_ he wanted more.  
He tried to deepen the kiss but Steve pulled away, looking flushed, out of breath, and wearing the same smug expression that Tony was supposed to. “No french kissing in my cafe.”

“Are you serious? The whole place is empty and you’re not even work- you know what let’s just get out of here and unpack my stuff.”

Steve held out his elbow and Tony took it with only a small mumbled comment. Last name ‘revelations’ and Stark Industries could wait for a while, right now he had an apartment to fix and a date with a foxy grandpa thanks to some crappy vacation. He had to remind himself to give Stane a raise.

 

 

A day later, Tony had Steve’s number and Steve had Tony’s last name.

A week later, they began to go steady and their friends gave them the mandatory “If you hurt him I’ll castrate you” talks (The only one who he believed would follow through on their threats was a petite redhead who, quite frankly, terrified him.). Pepper flew in from L.A to yell at Steve. 

A month later, he had the vacation deadline extended.

Two months later, he had his workload shipped to New York as his decision to stay became permanent. 

Two and a half months later, he began building a tower for him. 

Six months later, Roger’s Cafe gained another branch.

Seven months later, they moved into Stark Tower.

Eight months later, Roger’s Cafe had several branches. 

Ten months later, Steve gained pneumonia and slipped into a coma. His childhood best friend, Bucky, took over the Cafe.

Ten months and 70,634 minutes later, Steve woke up. 

Ten months, 70,634 minutes, and a day later, Tony proposed.

A year later, Steve took over Roger’s Cafe once again.

A year, six months, and a failed assassination attempt on Tony’s life later, Obadiah Stane was fired. 

Two years later, Tony and Steve exchanged vows.

Two years and a week later, Mr. and Mr. Stark-Rogers honeymooned in Thailand.

And all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Fixed! Btw, when I say 'later' I mean from their first meeting. So like, a year later was a year after they met.


End file.
